


Sleight Of Hand [And Twist Of Fate]

by sadlonelyyogurt



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Detectives, Amnesia, Angst, Blood and Gore, Case Fic, Enemies With Benefits, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Serial Killers, Slow Burn, Smut, Thriller, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, i'll give y'all a single guess as to who it is, just one serial killer, like i once saw on tumblr funny ao3 tags:, no research-no realism-no fucks, non-con and abuse is not between renga, not necessarily in that order, probably unrealistic depictions of law enforcement
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-26 18:20:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30110085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadlonelyyogurt/pseuds/sadlonelyyogurt
Summary: Kyan Reki is determined to put his life back together, even if it means he has to do it piece by piece. When his captain assigns him a case involving a recent string of dubious murders, Reki is certain it will be just the thing to distract his battered mind and readjust him back to life.Hasegawa Langa has been transferred to the Okinawa precinct after his years abroad. His new life is going smoothly until his ex-best friend is assigned as his partner in his first case at the new job. And, even more importantly, why can't Reki seem to remember him?
Relationships: Hasegawa Langa/Kyan Reki, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 59





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so fuckin embarrassed because I literally posted this thing accidentally when I was trying to save it as a draft and I didn't even notice until the next day ajadhadhsgfkjag.
> 
> Anyways.
> 
> I really wanted to read a smutty renga slow burn enemies to lovers au and I couldn't find one. You know you're not desperate for fic until you're staring down at an empty google doc.
> 
> The title is from With Or Without You by U2. I don't have an update schedule, sorry executive dysfunction really said *haha no thanks babes :) <3*
> 
> Also, I'll put trigger warnings ahead of each chapter because there will be some heavy topics. 
> 
> That is all I think. Please enjoy :)

~*~

His mother had looked so sad the day he got released from the hospital. Reki didn’t dare speak it aloud, but he had to wonder why. 

It was a happy occasion, he thought. He was getting better, he’d _be_ better soon enough. With time.

He knew nothing in life was ever that easy, and he was well aware of how intimately his mother knew this, too. His sisters hugged him, his mother’s husband clapped him lightly on the shoulder, and his mother just stared at him with wetness behind her eyes and a poorly constructed smile on her face. 

Reki smiled back and got in the car and they all went out for ice cream. 

~*~

“It’s good to have you back, Kyan,” Miya said genuinely the Monday after. Miya was hardly genuine. 

Joe paid for his coffee order that day and Cherry offered him a rare smile. Just a quirk of the lips. Reki learned all his paperwork was already caught up because Shadow had done it for him. 

He wished very desperately that everyone would stop treating him like he was made of glass. Because, really, it wasn’t helping him in the slightest.

Reki knew he’d scared everyone. For that, he was guilty.

“Kyan,” Oka barked before Reki could get too deep in his self pity, “My office.”

He was relieved and simultaneously anxious. On the one hand, a visit to Captain Oka’s office would probably mean a new assignment. On the other, it could also mean a talking to, or a pity party. Oh God. Reki hoped above everything that it wasn’t the latter. 

“Captain,” he greeted, sitting down when Oka waved him to the chair in front of the desk.

“It’s good to see you on your feet,” Oka said. “It was tough on the team, not having you around.”

Reki’s optimism that this would be a conversation in which he got an assignment was sinking by the minute. He was closest with Oka out of anyone in the station, so he was hoping Oka would understand that he just wanted to go back to normal. He was in no way equipped to burst into tears or have a panic attack in the middle of his workplace.

“I know that technically this is none of my business,” Oka continued, “But as your supervisor I feel it is my business to confirm that you are no longer seeing Himura Akumu.”

“We’re no longer in contact with each other,” Reki answered dutifully. He wanted this conversation to stop. He’d go back to his desk and wallow in his misery but he just _really_ didn’t want to talk about this.

Oka nodded. “I’m glad to hear it. And how are you holding up, then?”

“Sir,” Reki said, thinking, _screw it_ , “With all due respect, I’d really rather not talk about it right now.”

Oka sighed like he was disappointed which, honestly, fuck that, but Reki kept his posture straight and didn’t make any smart remarks. Some part of him registered that he might have before. He struggled to think of something to say. 

After all, how could he expect everyone to act normal around him when he couldn’t even do that himself?

He was saved when Oka said, “It’s alright, Kyan. I understand this hasn’t been easy for you.”

Reki allowed himself the tiniest breath of relief, and thought privately that Oka had made the understatement of the year.

“It’s fine, sir.” He knew to some degree that if it were Oka or anyone else in his situation, he’d probably treating them similarly to how everyone had been treating him every since he’d been stupid enough to land himself three days in a hospital bed.

He glanced at the piles of papers on Oka’s desk. All he wanted right then, was a case. Something to focus on besides his intrusive thoughts. He was too eager, he knew, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Do you have any new assignments for me?”

At this, some of the tightness in Oka’s face fell away and he chuckled softly. 

“It’s good to see you haven’t lost your enthusiasm,” he said. “And as a matter of fact, I do.”

Reki leaned forward the slightest amount. He knew it wouldn’t be anything big, even if that’s what he wished for. Oka wouldn’t want to excite him and there weren’t many big cases in Okinawa besides. 

Oka laid a folder down in front of him. Reki pulled it open, spread the photos apart, and nearly gagged.

“Jesus Christ…”

“I know it’s awful to look at,” Oka said, “But you’re our best detective. If this is too much for you at the moment—”

“It’s fine,” Reki interrupted. “What are we looking at, here?”

“From what the police have gathered so far, I think the general consensus would be a serial killer.”

“No _way_.”

Reki didn’t really believe it. Police liked to come to wild conclusions just for the excitement of it. A serial killer, a _real_ serial killer in innocent little Okinawa simply seemed preposterous.

“It’s hard to tell,” Oka admitted. “There’s only been three killings, but the victims were all killed and treated in the same manner, and in less than six months. It’s best we catch whoever did this before it can escalate.”

Part of Reki was undeniably excited by the prospect of a serial killer. Which was so, so wrong, but he’d never encountered a real case like this before. And he certainly never had one assigned to _him_ and only him.

“I should probably mention,” Oka added. “You’re going to be assigned a partner.”

Reki deflated a little inside, but didn’t let it show. Serial killers were oftentimes clever and crafty. He would be the first to admit that he could use a partner.

“Who?” he asked. “Is it Miya?” He hoped it was Miya.

“He’s new.”

New? Reki hadn’t heard of any new guy.

“He’s been working in law enforcement over in Canada for some time now, but before that he got his training in Japan. He’s just moved to Okinawa, though don’t ask me why.”

That was strange, someone leaving a big country like Canada just to come back to Japan and settle down in an unassuming place like Okinawa. Maybe he was old and looking to retire in a few years.

Oka glanced at the clock. “Shit.”

“What?”

“I have a meeting with the commissioner in ten minutes. The new guy is arriving tomorrow, and I implore you to hold off on the case until then. For your sanity as well as mine.” Oka knew how he could get all too well. “Now get your ass outta here.” It was said without any contempt behind it and Reki had the daring to flash a peace sign as he scampered out of the office.

“You’re looking significantly less depressed,” Miya told him bluntly once he was back at his desk. “What, did Shokichi give you a lollipop or something?”

Reki grinned. Even Miya was back to teasing him. 

“You’re the one he’d give a lollipop to, kid,” he intoned.

Miya rolled his eyes. “If anything, you’re the child in this department.”

“No, I’m pretty sure you are. Legally.”

“Legally, exactly.”

Their banter was easy and Reki found himself slipping back into himself with ease.

“He didn’t give me a lollipop. Just a serial killer case.”

Miya jumped to attention. “You’re kidding.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“He’s, um.” Miya coughed. “He’s assigning you a partner, right?” There was an unspoken question behind the sentence, but Reki refrained from laughing.

“Of course he is,” he said.

“It doesn’t happen to be…?”

“You? You wish.”

Miya slumped in his chair and pouted. For all his cold, badass facade, sometimes he acted like he was thirteen. 

“Don’t sweat it,” Reki assured him, “I’m sure Oka has a good case lined up for you to work on.”

Miya grumbled. “Well he better, because I’ve been doing paperwork for the past _week_. I’m exhausted.”

“And of course, you’ve been keeping up our side gig while I’ve been gone?”

Reki realized a moment too late that he shouldn’t have mentioned his absence. Miya immediately shifted into a posture radiating discomfort.

“Uh, Kyan… about that.”

The side gig in question was wingmanning Matchablossom. That’s what Shadow dubbed Cherry and Joe, Matchablossom, and it stuck. It was an inside joke between the three of them, Reki, Miya and Shadow, but Shadow was insistent that he wasn’t messing with anyone’s love life when he had his own to worry about. So Reki and Miya were on their own to #makematchblossomcanon.

“What is it?” Reki asked. From the look on Miya’s face, it seemed like something bad had happened. Possibilities swarmed through his head. Had he read them wrong? Were they not secretly in love with each other? Had one of them confessed and been turned down? But it had seemed so real—

“They’re together,” Miya blurted.

Reki felt some kind of weight lift off his chest. “Jesus, Miya, you scared me! Why so serious?”

Miya shrugged. “I didn’t want you to feel… left out, I guess. Or something. Whatever.” He huffed and turned in his seat. “Joe took Cherry to dinner on Friday. You can go ask them, though you’d run the risk of Cherry murdering you.”

“I’ll… take your word for it.”

~*~

When he got home that evening, Reki felt lighter than he had in a long time. Coming home to an empty apartment was still hard, every day it was hard, but being at work had done him some good. He flipped on the television.

While he was making himself dinner (really making dinner! Real food! He wasn’t ordering takeout for what felt like the first time in forever!) something caught his eye. He knew what it was even as he refused to turn and look at it. 

He reasoned that if he didn’t look at it then he wasn’t giving it the time of day, and therefore he wasn’t giving _her_ the time of day. But he knew what it was and he knew it was there. And it sat in the corner, taunting him.

Finally, he shut off the stove and turned. Her scrunchie, the one she always wore. It was big and poofy and a little velvety to the touch. 

He picked it up. It smelled a little like her shampoo.

Even after everything, there were days, times, when he still loved her. Just wanted to hold her.

The ramen grew cold on the stove just like the empty place in his bed. She wasn’t there and Reki couldn’t sleep.

~*~

Miya noticed the funk he was in the next morning, but said nothing. He was getting better about being his usual self around Reki, which Reki appreciated, but there was no way Miya missed the uncharacteristic slump in his posture.

“Here,” Miya said, sliding over his Redbull.

Reki shook his head, which was laying on his desk. “Don’t.”

Miya slid it farther. “You look like you need it more than me. I’m trying to quit caffeine, anyway.”

“Because that went so well the last time.”

“Shut up. I’m taking it slow this time.”

Reki accepted the energy drink in the end. The caffeine made him feel better and after the Redbull he greedily drank his usual morning coffee that Joe ordered from down the street, plus the sip he stole from Cherry’s espresso.

By that time Miya was looking at him with even more concern than earlier in the morning, but Reki didn’t give a shit because he was _awake_.

“Kyan,” Oka barked. 

“He’s been talking with some white boy in there all morning,” Shadow observed.

Reki hummed. “I thought he was from Japan?”

“Half-white, I think,” Miya said. “You’d better go before Oka busts your balls.”

Which seemed like a decent plan to Reki. 

“Kyan, good morning,” Oka greeted him when he stepped into the office.

A man was standing in front of the desk, long blue hair, snow white skin and eyes that looked like the ocean. Holy _shit_ , Reki had never seen anyone who looked like except on TV.

There was something else, too. A nagging feeling at the back of his skull, like Reki knew this guy but couldn’t place where from. It felt almost like deja vu.

“Kyan, meet Hasegawa Langa.”

Nah, maybe Hasegawa just had one of those faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is short, but I expect them to get longer as I go.
> 
> Next chapter we'll get Langa's pov. Stay tuned and thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We are introduced to Hasegawa Langa, resident emotionally constipated idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter two up the next day? productivity can I get a woot woot?
> 
> (does it count as productivity if this is just another way to procrastinate doing my homework? sure.)
> 
> Trigger warnings for this chapter, there is discussion of suicide, rape and murder.

~*~

If he was being honest, all Langa had really wanted to do that fateful Tuesday was lay in bed and never get up.

He’d been up late the night before, stressing and preparing for his new job. By the time his alarm went off, he’d gotten a total of four hours of sleep and there was no coffee in the house since his mom didn’t drink it. He had accepted losing the job if it meant he could sleep the whole day.

His mother, though, saw to it that he didn’t sleep in for even a minute. It felt like being back in school again. Being a kid.

“Langa, Langa! Hasegawa Langa!”

Although, she did used to be a little nicer when she woke him up in the mornings. 

“You’ve just got those rose colored glasses on,” his mother rebuked when he told her this over breakfast. “I was plenty mean back when you were in highschool. I had to be, or else you’d have never gotten up at all!”

Langa admitted that maybe this was true.

“Now,” his mother said, “if you leave before seven thirty you’ll have plenty of time to buy a coffee. I wrote the directions down for you. Take this money, it will be enough. And do you have your cell phone? I should have put it in your coat pocket already. I packed you a lunch here—just a sub roll, from Canada like your dad used to make. I’m going out with friends this afternoon but if you don’t want to be home alone—”

“Mom.”

“—Just call me, dear, I wrote down my friend's number on that paper with the directions there. By the way—”

“ _Mom_.”

His mother stopped talking abruptly and looked up at Langa’s face. “Yes, dear?”

“I’ll be fine. There’s no need to fuss over me.”

His mother sighed, almost a bit defeatedly. 

“I know, I—I know.” She was silent for a moment as she adjusted Langa’s collar. “I supposed I never got used to treating you like an adult, huh?”

Langa swallowed thickly and looked away from her, hoping his shame didn’t show on his face. He hadn’t seen his mother in a long, long time.

“It’s almost a good thing I got sick then, isn’t it?” His mother laughed lightly. “Finally gave you a reason to come stay with your old mom.”

“Mom,” Langa said. He turned so he was facing her again. “Don’t say that.”

She tutted. “No, no, stop pitying me, you. I was only teasing. You needed all that good time in the West. Now get going! You’ll be late.”

With that, she shooed him out the door.

The coffee shop was small but crowded, and Langa found himself overwhelmed by all the patrons. He wondered how so many people could possibly be up before eight o’clock. It was ridiculous. He wouldn’t be one of them if he had a say in it.

His coffee order was black, which was simple and what he liked best anyway. Onto the station, then.

~*~

“Oka Shokichi. Pleasure to meet you.”

“You as well.” Langa dropped his hand and stood awkwardly in the center of the room. There was a chair in front of the captain’s desk, but he wasn't sure if he should sit in it unless invited to.

“So,” Oka said, sitting in his own chair, “How are you feeling about the job, Hasegawa?”

Langa shrugged minutely. “I’m excited to see how it differs from working in Canada.”

Truthfully, at 25, Langa felt like he was about ready to retire.

“Excellent to hear. Would you like to sit down?” Oka gestured to the chair and Langa gratefully plopped into it.

Oka grinned. “The coffee hasn’t kicked in yet, I see.”

“Ah.” Langa allowed himself the hint of a smile. “No, I guess not.”

They chatted for a while. Langa found the captain surprisingly easy to talk to, which wasn’t an often occurrence for him. He got the details on the gruesome case. It was shaping up to be the worst he’d ever worked personally, but not the worst he’d seen.

“This… is truly disturbing,” he said. Eighteen year old males, all of them. Raped, murdered, and raped again. Their bodies mutilated. Some near Jeffery Dahmer level shit. 

“Can’t stomach it?” Oka was trying to push his buttons.

Langa sat up a bit straighter. “I’m well equipped for the job.”

Oka smirked at him, but then his face grew serious. “About the job, actually. I’ll of course be assigning you a partner.”

“Yes,” Langa said.

“I’m assigning you this case because it’s an extremely high stakes situation, and I want to test your skills to the fullest extent I can in order to see where you’ll fit in this precinct. I’ll be assigning detective Kyan as your partner because he’s the best detective we have. He’s incredibly capable and I know you’ll be in good hands with him.”

 _Funny_ , Langa thought, _I used to have a best friend with the family name ‘Kyan_.’

“However,” Oka said. 

Ah, of course. There’s always a ‘however’.

“Detective Kyan has been going through some… personal issues lately. For all our sakes, don’t pry. I’m pairing you with him specifically because you don’t know what’s going on. Plus, going by your resume you seem to be able to hold your own in the field. I’m sure you’ll have his back should he need assistance.”

Langa affirmed. “Of course, sir.”

“Good. I’ll call him in.”

Langa sat in thought for a moment while Oka ducked out to fetch Kyan. _Kyan_ … that certainly brought him back.

He shook his head. It was definitely an inopportune time to get caught up in that train of thought.

Oka stepped back in the room and sat down at his desk. “He’ll be right in.”

The door pushed open with a soft creak. Langa turned and—

Oh.

No.

There was—there was absolutely no _way_.

~*~

“Do you ever think about the future, Langa?”

He had to think for a minute. Then he shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“Oh.” There was silence for a moment. Langa knew Reki wouldn’t be able to keep himself from talking for long.

“I think about the future a lot,” Reki said. Langa was right, of course. “What’d you think you’ll do?”

Honestly, Langa had lied. He didn’t know. He never thought about anything but skateboarding.

“I guess I just want to skateboard,” he said honestly. 

Reki laughed. “You can’t skateboard forever.”

“Why not?”

There was a pause. Clearly, Reki didn’t know.

“We have a long time until we’re grown ups,” Langa added. The only thing in the future he was thinking about was his tenth birthday in three weeks. He hoped there would be a big cake. Vanilla, preferably.

“Yeah but…" Reki took a deep breath. His relunctance to voice whatever was next was apparent in the heavy silence. "What if we don’t make it there?” 

This remark, and the wobbly tone of Reki’s voice, prompted Langa to stop his board. He turned to find Reki had stopped a few feet behind him as well.

“What do you mean?”

Reki bent at the knees and sank down until he was sitting on his board, his knees pulled up to his chest.

“I just—sometimes I get scared,” he said, voice small. “On the news the other day I saw this part… some famous person. It said they killed themselves.”

Langa felt his eyes widen. “What?” It wasn’t something he had even realized one could do.

“My mom didn’t mean for me to see it, but I did,” Reki explained. “She said sometimes people get really really sad, and then they don’t want to be alive anymore.”

Langa couldn’t imagine such a thing. Not wanting to be alive anymore? But there were so many amazing things in the world! There was skating, food, the beach, Reki… 

“I’m just saying,” Reki went on, “like… that could happen to one of us in future, couldn’t it?”

Langa left his board where it was sitting and sat down in the dirt beside Reki’s board. He traced the pattern of the rim with his fingertips and thought.

“It won’t,” he said with finality. With the kind of confidence and assuredness only a child could have. “As long as we have each other, we’ll never feel that way.” Of this, he was certain.

Reki was staring at him with big, watery eyes. He only looked half convinced.

“Plus,” said Langa, “I’ll make sure nothing bad happens to you and you can make sure nothing happens to me. We’ll protect each other from everything, even the bad feelings we get sometimes.”

Reki sniffed and considered Langa’s words. “But what about when we’re really old? What about when we get married to girls?”

“I would never choose a girl over you,” Langa assured him. “Girls have cooties.”

“My dad says girls don’t have cooties when they get older, and then we’ll both like them. So we’ll have to marry the one we like.”

Langa shook his head. “But you’ll still be my best friend. And if the girls we marry want to be our best friends, then we can marry each other instead.”

Reki looked dubious. “Is that allowed?”

Langa shrugged. “Who cares?”

At this, Reki smiled. “Pinky swear?”

Langa held out his finger. “Pinky swear. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Reki giggled. “My mom says you shouldn’t say that.”

“Why?”

“I dunno.” He shrugged. “She just does.”

“Well,” Langa said, “I think you can say it if you really mean it. And I really mean it.”

Reki wrapped their fingers together. Langa’s conviction was contagious.

“Cross my heart and hope to die. And I mean it, too.”

~*~

“Um, hello? You in there? I’m Kyan Reki, I’ll be your partner. Though I’m sure Oka already told you all about that.”

Langa swallowed hard. What the hell. What the hell was going on. He was aware to some degree that he was making the dumbest face in the world.

“Kyan,” he managed to get out. “Kyan Reki.”

“Uh… yeah? That’s my name. Hey, are you sure you’re fit for case work? You look a little sick.”

Reki’s face in front of his snapped Langa back to reality.

He was staring at Langa with an expression of concern, his lip pouted in thought. There was no recognition in his eyes. 

It registered in Langa’s head like a douse of cold water, like a slap to the face, that Kyan Reki didn’t have a clue who he was. 

“I’m… fine,” he managed weakly. 

He was most definitely not fine. 

“Uh, okay,” Reki said. “Cool. Did you get the rundown of the case?”

Langa nodded. He felt like he was underwater. 

It seemed impossible to him that Reki didn’t remember. Didn’t even recognize the name. After everything…

It occurred to Langa that this might not be Kyan Reki. Or at least, not _the_ Kyan Reki. Not his. 

But, no. It had to be. Langa may not have seen him in years, but the soft lines of his face, the spiky red hair, those fiery eyes. He was unmistakable.

And he still wore that stupid headband. Langa was going to have a stroke. 

“I’ve got some ideas already about how the evidence lines up. We could-”

Some part of Langa wanted to scream, _“Don’t you know me? How could you forget? Where have you been all this time?”_

The more reasonable part of him knew that was unlikely to go down well. 

“—Get a better profile on the victims and track down witnesses—”

Reki was animated as he gesticulated and babbled on about the case. It instilled a warm, fond feeling in Langa’s chest as to how similar Reki was, even that many years later. The last time he’d seen Reki, he’d not looked close to that bright.

Langa couldn’t back out of the case, not without looking suspicious, and he needed the job. But he didn’t need to go around opening up old wounds. If Reki was happy, then that was all that mattered. He had no need for Langa or ex-friendships or sour, possibly traumatic, memories.

Langa managed to convince himself that he was doing it for Reki. Operation Ice Prince was at hand.

~*~

Reki’s bandage was loose again. Langa reached down to wrap it up.

“You never told me why you hit him.”

It was quiet that night. The only sounds were the hum of crickets on the lawns and the buzz of the streetlamp above them.

Reki didn’t answer. He wouldn’t meet Langa’s eyes.

Langa, frustrated with how distant Reki had been acting lately, tugged on his hand. The injured one he was still wrapping up, he realized belatedly, but Reki didn’t even flinch.

“Why, Reki?” he asked. “It’s not like you to pick pointless fights.”

Reki had the audacity to roll his eyes. “What’d you mean? I’ve always been like this.”

Langa tied the ends of the bandage together and dropped Reki’s hand.

“But—but not so _stupid_ and—” he sighed. “I just want to know why.”

Reki shrugged, worrying his lip between his teeth a second before he finally gave in. “They were calling us names.”

Langa cocked his head. “Us?”

“Mhm. They knew I could hear them. It just made me so _mad_ , man.”

“But…” Langa didn’t know what to say. “People always say bad things about us.”

“No, people say bad things about _me_. Not about you. Everybody likes you.”

Langa didn’t understand. He stayed silent.

Reki sighed harshly and tugged on his headband. He was looking away, out to somewhere across the road. 

“I don’t care if people make fun of me,” he said. Langa knew this wasn’t entirely true, but he let Reki go on. “They can call me whatever. But _you_ … they don’t even know what they’re talking about. And they weren’t even trying to be funny, either. They were just mean.”

Langa had to admit he was touched by the fact that Reki had stood up for him, however bothered he was by the stupidity of it. 

He said, “You know, I really don’t care what they say about me, either.”

“But I _do_ ,” Reki replied, insistent. “We promised, remember? That we’d always look out for each other.”

Langa was taken aback just a bit. He hadn’t known Reki remembered that. Then again, Reki remembered most things. 

“I… remember,” he said.

“Then doesn’t this apply?”

He realized then what Reki was getting at. 

“It’s different,” he said. Reki opened his mouth to protest, but Langa held up his hand. “There’s a difference between looking out for each other and doing stupid, unnecessary things.”

“It wasn’t unnecessary,” Reki objected.

Langa crossed his arms. he wouldn’t be upholding his end of the promise if he let Reki get into dumb fights for dumb reasons. He would protect Reki from all harm if he could help it. 

“How would you feel if I pulled something like that? Because I know I wish you hadn’t. I don’t want you to defend my honour.”

“Well what if I want to?”

He was such a stubborn bastard. Langa ran a hand over his face. “As your friend who’s concerned about your wellbeing, I’m asking you to please not do that.”

Reki huffed, but Langa could see in his shift of stance that he was backing down. “Sometimes I just want to win at something,” he said.

“I know,” Langa said, even if he didn’t always fully understand why Reki felt so strongly about such things. Curiosity was nagging at his mind about something else, so he asked, “What did those kids say about me, anyway?”

“Huh?”

“What did they say that got you so mad?”

Reki huffed and shrugged. “They called you an ice prince.”

“A what?”

“An ice prince.”

Langa tried to find some meaning to the phrase, but his brain couldn’t deduce anything.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Reki shrugged. “Like, you know how all the girls call you a prince?”

“The girls don’t do that.”

“Yeah, they do. They think you’re pretty.”

“They don’t.”

“They do. Don’t fight me on this one. Anyway, those kids were saying you’re nice looking, but you’re cold.”

“Cold?”

“Mean.”

“Ah.” Langa hadn’t known the kids at school thought he was mean. He just didn’t talk to them much. No matter, the only company he really cared about was Reki’s, so as long as he didn’t think Langa was mean then there wasn’t much to be bothered about.

“Ice prince, though?” he said. It was such a weird way to describe someone.

Reki snorted. “They probably thought it was poetic.”

‘Ice prince.’ How stupid. Langa chuckled.

Reki turned towards him, a shit eating grin on his face. “Prince Langa!” he cried, his voice raised an octave or five, “You’re so handsome and strong! I almost wish I could marry you, but you’re so _cold_.” At this, he dramatically brought the back of his hand to his forehead and slumped against Langa’s side.

Langa laughed harder. “You’re so stupid, Reki.”

Reki snickered. “Not as stupid as you, man. I can’t believe you didn’t know the girls call you a prince.”

“They don’t do that,” Langa said.

“Dude, they literally do.”

“They don’t.”

“They do.”

“They don’t.”

“Do.”

“Don’t.”

“Do.”

“Don’t.”

“Do…”

~*~

Langa didn’t return Reki’s smile, and let his offer of a handshake go rejected. The way Reki’s face fell put stones in Langa’s stomach, but it was better this way.

He was doing it for Reki, wasn’t he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter also wasn't very long sorryyyy :/ bUT you got some flashbacks so there's that. 
> 
> I'm pretty sure the next chapter actually will be longer based on what I have written up for the plot so it might take a few days. not sure at this point. but also don't hold me to anything lol
> 
> thanks for reading! tell me what you think (and dont worry, they'll get to the actual police case soon).


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the observant reader will notice that not much actually happens in this chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter, there's a minor panic attack and a brief implication of alcoholism and self harm. the killer's process also gets explained pretty in-depth so just be prepared for that.

~*~

This Hasegawa guy, as it turned out, was a total prick.

“I want a new partner,” Reki said.

Oka didn’t even look up from his computer. “Not a chance.”

Hasegawa had already left the office to find his new desk and get settled. Reki had conspicuously stayed behind.

“I think we’ll be ineffective in the field together.”

“ _I_ think you haven’t even given it a day,” Oka retorted. “And that you should show a little more respect to your boss.”

“But _Sir_ ,” Reki whined. He crossed his arms and hunched in on himself, getting the feeling this conversation wouldn’t be getting him anywhere. “Hasegawa is rude as hell.”

Oka didn’t spare him a glance. “I had a very pleasant conversation with him this morning. You’re a friendly person, Reki. I’m sure you’ll get him out of his shell.”

Reki waved his hands around wildly, wishing Oka would at least _look_ at him. Jesus. “He hates me for some reason! It’s not my job to socialize him or something!”

“Kyan,” Oka said, warning.

Reki crossed his arms. “I just don’t understand why you couldn’t have partnered me with Miya.”

“Miya has paperwork.”

“Paperwork? This is a serial killer we’re talking about!” 

Oka sighed and finally turned his eyes away from his desktop. “Kyan, please. You’re acting like a child. Give it a week. If you two really can’t stand each other by next Monday, I’ll reconsider.”

Reki let out an angry breath of air, but he could tell Oka was losing patience with his lack of professionalism. He leaned against the desk and considered the compromise.

He supposed it was better than nothing.

“ _Fine_.”

“Yes, it is fine. Now get out of my office.”

~*~

“Paperwork,” Miya muttered. “Paperwork? That’s bullshit. What does he _think_ I’ve been doing for the last week and a half?”

“Adopting cats or something,” Reki suggested.

“Shut up. I don’t even have that many cats.”

That there was a bald-faced lie. Reki didn’t call Miya out on it. Instead, he continued his griping. “Oka won’t reconsider until next Monday. I don’t wanna deal with this guy that long!”

Miya nodded in solidarity. He stared down at his Redbull.

“You’re both idiots,” Shadow called from across the room. He was always eavesdropping on them. “I can’t believe you two haven’t been fired yet. You’re children, inside and out.”

“Fuck you,” Reki said.

Miya stuck out his tongue at Shadow, which did nothing but prove his point.

Shadow and Miya’s attention suddenly shifted from Reki to something behind him as a lean shadow fell over his desk.

“Kyan.”

Reki spun around in his chair. There was Hasegawa, tall, handsome and insufferable. 

“Hasegawa!” Reki said. “We were just talking about you.”

Miya snorted, muttering under his breath, “you really are an idiot.” Reki elbowed him. 

“Uh…” Hasegawa said. “Okay.” The guy somehow managed to come off as a jackass while also seeming to be perpetually confused. Or maybe the traits were one in the same. “We should work on the case,” he said.

Reki decided he could take Oka’s advice for once and give Hasegawa a second chance. There’d be no harm in it.

“Right down to business on day one?” He said, careful to keep his tone playful. “That’s quite the work ethic.”

Hasegawa only seemed miffed. “Something you wouldn’t understand, I’m sure,” he replied. 

Reki glanced over at Miya, who was looking at him with an identical expression of ‘geez, what a dick.’

Still, Reki laughed. Better to make friends than enemies. 

“Don’t be like that,” he said. “Why don’t you hang out with us for a while? We’re going to lunch soon, anyway.”

“I’d rather just get this case over with,” Langa said shortly.

Reki’s patience and his resolve were both wearing thin.

“Man,” he said, “what’s the issue? Is it something I said?”

Hasegawa turned his head, making eye contact with the floor to his left instead of Reki. Reki could see how tense he was.

“I don’t have time for messing around or making _friends_ ,” Hasegawa said, like some kind of emo protagonist. “There’s most likely a serial killer on the loose, or did you forget?”

Reki glared. “I didn’t forget.”

“Well, then let’s go.”

There was a beat of silence as Reki tried to think of something witty to say. Really, though, Hasegawa had a point. Miya and Shadow were onlooking with suspenseful anxiousness written all over their faces.

“I’m fine right here,” Reki finally said, proud of himself for stalling only a few seconds. “We don’t have to be together to work on the case.”

Miya unhelpfully asked, “Isn’t that the entire point of being partners?” 

Hasegawa shrugged at Reki, ignoring Miya’s comment. “Works for me.” In a second he was gone.

Shadow stood from his desk and stretched. “Well, that was quite the show,” he said, like the asshole he was, through a record breaking yawn, “But I’ll be breaking for lunch, now. Care to join?”

Reki felt like burning down the building just a little bit, but he agreed along with Miya.

“Great. Korean place sound good?”

The restaurant was busy and loud, but the three of them managed to find a table. Of course, Shadow and Miya thought it was their duty to give Reki their opinions on the Hasegawa situation, as always seemed to be the case with them about such things.

“You’re going to have to get along with him eventually,” Miya said, like he was such a fucking expert. And how was Reki supposed to take him seriously when he was at a restaurant eating his own home-brought freeze dried astronaut snacks?

“Will not,” Reki replied through a mouthful of barbeque. 

“Mm, no I think Miya’s right this time,” Shadow replied.

Miya stared at him. “Did you just agree with me?”

“I take it back.”

“Can’t. No take backs.”

Reki was content to listen to them bicker. 

He didn’t understand why Hasegawa was being so cold to him when he’d apparently been so affable with Oka. Was something about Reki irritating to him? Was it Reki’s appearance, or his personality? He’d known people who were thrown off by his chummy disposition, but Oka wasn’t too different in that regard, was he? The fact that Hasegawa was being a dick for no apparent reason really did make Reki hate him more, but it also made him wonder if he was just missing something.

Furthermore, he couldn’t stop the nagging feeling that he knew Hasegawa from somewhere. His face was just so familiar and—

Geez. This was giving him a headache.

“Reki?”

Reki blinked. “Hm? What?”

Miya scrunched up his eyebrows a little but didn’t comment on Reki’s spaciness. “I asked if you have any predictions on the case.”

“Oh, no,” Reki said. “Not yet, anyway. I haven’t really looked into it much so far. But the incidents are almost certainly related.”

“How far apart?”

“The first two were within a week of each other, but the third was a few months later. It’s odd for a serial killer to pop up so suddenly and then kill so many victims in such quick succession. Though I supposed it’s not unheard of or anything.”

Shadow nodded along. 

“ _Ugh_ ,” Miya griped, “I wish I had a real case.”

“If you wanted a real case you shouldn’t have settled for a city like Okinawa,” Shadow said. “Take yourself to Tokyo or Osaka. That’s where there’s too many cases for the law enforcement to even handle.”

Miya narrowed his eyes. “You’re just trying to get me to leave.”

“Something like that.”

They bickered some more.

~*~

Reki’s desk was a complete mess. And despite the evidence strewn every which way and the hours he’d spent, he’d found hardly anything useful.

If he was being kind to himself, there was really very little evidence to go off of, the only things the police had found being the bodies. Reki supposed the best course of action at the moment would be to put a warning around the city, that everyone, but especially young men, should be extra careful with strangers or when walking alone. 

Forensics couldn’t find any reliable DNA samples. The fucker was good. Still, Reki could at least figure out a few things about the killer’s process.

There were no witness statements or testaments from families yet. Reki supposed he and Langa would have to go out and collect those at some point. He dreaded the thought.

It seemed to him, after looking over the coroner report as well as the photos, that this killer liked to have their fun with their victims before killing them—not a rare trait among people of the murdery type. It was hard to tell when exactly the victim and killer had fornicated with the lack of semen, but the obvious roughness of the action made it clear there was most likely little to no consent. That, and the fact that the victims had been kidnapped to random, desolate locations. 

The wounds on the bodies, most likely inflicted by a carving knife, were cut while the victims were still alive. Plus, they appeared to be less the kind of wound that would be afflicted simply for mutilation and instead seemed to have more of a sadistic purpose. 

So at least they weren’t dealing with a necrophile or a cannibal, just a sadistic, murdering rapist. It was the small victories.

“Hey, Kyan!”

Reki jumped. He’d been in his head a little bit. He glanced around him and realized there were four cups of coffee and a Red Bull perched in various places by his workspace. Geez. He had no idea how close or far apart he’d consumed them, or how strong the coffees had been.

He turned around to find Captain Oka peering at him from his office door. Reki racked his brain for something he could be in trouble for.

“What?” he said.

Oka stalked toward him. He stayed a safe distance away from Reki’s desk, like he thought it was going to explode, and surveyed the area. Miya had made a row of empty Red Bull cans at the dividing line between his and Reki’s desks.

“What the hell are you doing?” Oka asked. 

Reki didn’t understand. Oka had seen his process a hundred times before. 

“Working?” He said. He leaned his elbow on his desk in an effort to look more casual, which pushed a stack of papers sideways which knocked over the wall of Red Bull cans like bowling pins. Miya glared at him and hissed a string of curses.

Oka didn’t react much to the situation other than a small wince when the cans went clattering down. He said, “Where the hell is Hasegawa?”

“Also… working? I think.”

Oka sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And you aren’t working together _why_?”

Reki shrugged. “He’s a dick.”

There were several beats of silence. Shadow was pretending not to listen from his own desk and Miya had taken his earbuds out, unabashedly curious.

“Chinen, get Hasegawa and tell him to see me in my office,” Oka said, still looking for all the world like an overworked father. “Kyan, come with me.”

Reki was tempted to complain, but he had a feeling he had maybe only one more strike left with Oka for the day. He followed Oka to his office and two minutes later Langa joined them, confusion written all over his face.

“Sir,” he greeted Oka, not even sparing Reki a glance in his direction.

Oka sighed, folding his arms over themselves on his desk. “Listen,” he began, “You two need to start working together. Seriously.”

“Oh,” Hasegawa said. He ducked his head in apparent embarrassment.

Oka gave Reki a look.

Reki threw up his arms, saying, “What?” 

“Do you agree to work together or not?” Oka said.

“We’re not compatible,” Reki replied. He was already losing patience with the conversation. “I don’t see why you’re insisting on us being partners.”

“Clearly it might be a bit of a learning experience for you.” If Oka were the type to roll his eyes, he would have done it then. Reki could tell by the tone of his voice. “If you can’t get along with him because he made a poor first impression—”

“And a poor second impression.”

Oka sighed harshly. “Kyan, I know things have been difficult for you lately—”

“ _Don’t_ even bring that up right now.”

“—But if you’re not fit for case work, I can assign Hasegawa someone else.”

Reki blanched. He knew Oka wouldn’t do that—he wouldn’t. But Reki could also tell Oka was losing patience with _him_.

“I can’t be expected to be civil to someone who won’t even try being at least agreeable in return,” Reki said anyway, because he had pride, goddamnit. He wasn’t going to back down and let Hasegawa be a dick to him all fucking day.

Oka leveled him with a look. “Kyan, I’ll take you off this goddamn case.”

“You won’t.”

“Try me.”

“I’m your best detective.”

“Not until you grow up you're not.” Oka uncrossed his arms and pointed. “I’ll take you off the case.”

Reki couldn’t tell by his expression whether he was serious or not. Fuck.

On the one hand, he could fight it. But it was about then he realized how much caffeine he’d consumed in the past hour, which never did much to quell his impulsiveness—quite the opposite, really—and he was on dangerous ground as it was. He didn’t need to be acting up in the office and consequently getting put on desk duty like Miya.

“Fucking— _fine_.”

Oka grinned suddenly enough to be unnerving. “Good.” He turned to Langa. “And that goes for you, too, Hasegawa.”

“Yes, sir,” Hasegawa said, without a hint of hesitation.

“Now, I want to see both of you boys working _together_ , and I do not want to have to call you in here one more time.” Oka was trying to make his voice as condescending as possible. “Play nice with each other, I’m not a fucking elementary school teacher. Got it?”

“Fine.”

“Yes, sir.”

Oka turned his attention to his computer. “Out.”

The door slammed shut behind them. Reki groaned.

“I hate this fucking job.”

Langa said, “Consider this: quit.”

Reki glared at him. “Fuck you.”

Hasegawa shrugged, like, ‘what did I do?’

Reki shook his head, cursing out everyone in the whole damn precinct under his breath. But mostly Hasegawa. _Especially_ Hasegawa. Goddamn fucking asshole son of a bitch motherfucker. Oka definitely wasn’t going to reconsider that Monday repartnering now. _Fuck_. 

~*~

Reki still avoided Langa for the rest of the day. He knew he was acting immature and petulant, but he was coming down from his caffeine high and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with dickish blue haired Canadians or their probably irrelevant ideas about the case.

Instead, he sulked at his desk and tried to pick through the meager case evidence for a while. Unfortunately, Miya had told everyone to ban him from caffeine for the day and so there was not much productivity anyway. ADHD brain didn’t focus much without that boost.

The whole day felt grueling, despite however much work Reki had, in reality, actually done. By the end of the day, he was ready to go home and crash. Then he remembered how very, very alone he’d be, and he found he didn’t much want to go home at all.

He thought about it the entire drive back to his apartment, even when part of his mind warned him that the train of thought wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He asked himself where this had all come from—he hadn’t been this anxious earlier.

He could call Miya, ask to have a drink. But no, Miya had said something about going out that evening, and besides, Reki didn’t want to bother him. He’d just have to deal with his empty apartment. He’d done it plenty of times before. There was no good reason for him to feel this way.

He’d be just fine.

No sooner had Reki stepped through the door than he felt like something bad was going to happen. Rationally, he knew anxiety was just trying to hijack his brain. But rationality was pretty much out the window at that point, and despite being so exhausted from work, he felt the itch in his bones to move, flee, do _something_ useful as long as he could _get out of there_.

He wasn’t sure if he desperately wanted her to be there, or if he was terrified that she might be.

Before he really made much of a conscious decision about it he had slipped on his sneakers and taken the stairs to the ground floor. It was cold that day, but the brisk air felt good against his exposed skin. It woke him up and numbed him at the same time as he ran.

His head was swimming still. He tried to breath through it, to focus on the slap of his feet against the hard pavement and the way his work clothes itched uncomfortably against his skin, not made for exercise.

Grounding himself with the things he could feel, hear, see, he came down from his bad high.

The running was good, the running did everything for him that he needed and was beneficial to his body at the same time. Thank God for therapy, really. No more blades or bottles.

Reki stopped. 

He stumbled toward a nearby tree and braced himself against it, panting. He could breath. He was there. He was fine.

Things made themselves known to him one at a time: the pain in his chest from his shortness of breath, the chilling cold, the sweat collecting in the creases of his work clothes. He became aware of how awfully uncomfortable he was, and the displeasure was no longer a comfort.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

It took effort, but he managed not to dwell too much on how he’d totally lost it. Nothing productive to come of that.

Once back at home, Reki showered and drank a glass of water, and almost managed to get through an entire apple without getting distracted.

That is, until someone knocked on his door.

His first thought was that it was Akumu—she was back, back for her scrunchie or her shampoo or the book she’d forgotten in the nightstand. Reki talked himself down from it, though. Perhaps it was just a neighbor or a salesman. 

Reki took a deep breath, steeled himself, and answered the door.

“You’re kidding.”

Blue hair. Blue fucking hair and pale skin and a goddamn button up shirt. 

Reki glared. “What the fuck are you doing at my place?”

“I—Me?” Hasegawa replied, looking completely perplexed. “What are you doing as—as my neighbor?”

Reki tugged on the back of his headband in distress and confusion, thinking he couldn’t possibly have heard correctly. There was no way. “What the fuck?”

“My thoughts exactly,” Hasegawa said.

“Shut the fuck up and—” Reki huffed and attempted to gather his thoughts. “Wait—my neighbor? You’re my fucking neighbor?”

Hasegawa jabbed his thumb towards the next door over. “Well, I live right there, so…” 

Number 241’s door was slightly ajar. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Hasegawa seemed more confused than angry, if anything. “Um, no, I’m not.”

“Fuck—fuck—shut up, Hasegawa,” Reki said. “Let me think for a second.”

“What’s there to think about, I’m unfortunately your neighbor—”

“Gah, just shut up!”

Hasegawa complied, staring awkwardly to the left. He seemed deeply uncomfortable, as he should be.

“I’ve never seen you here before today,” Reki said eventually. He couldn’t believe his luck. His shitty, shitty luck.

Hasegawa shrugged. He already seemed bored, like he wanted to leave. “I moved here two days ago with my mother. Our other apartment was too expensive.”

Reki wanted to ask how it could be—Hasegawa was a detective, for Christ’s sake, the only reason Reki stayed in that shitty apartment building was because he never got around to looking for a new place—but he didn’t want to appear interested.

“Whatever,” he muttered. He was thinking maybe now would be a perfect time to start looking for somewhere else to live. Then he heard Oka’s voice telling him to quit being dramatic. “Let’s just stay out of each other’s way.”

“Okay,” Hasegawa said, words clipped like always. He turned stiffly and Reki didn’t wait to watch him leave, just shut his door with a soft click.

Hasegawa was his _neighbor_? His _fucking neighbor_?

And, no, Reki didn’t _hate_ Hasegawa. The guy just really sucked and Reki didn’t want the inevitable awkwardness of living right next to him, especially with the case situation at their shared job. Goddamnit. Couldn’t he catch a break?

He sighed long and hard and stood off the door, shuffling back into the kitchen. His apple was there on the table, looking dejected, so he picked it up and gave it a thoughtful bite.

It occurred to him then that he hadn’t asked why Hasegawa was knocking on his door in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know these first chapters have been slow, I'm not great at the set up but next chapter the real case begins, and then hopefully this story will get exciting. 
> 
> thanks for reading!


End file.
